Choosing the Right Man - Nice Girl to Love, Vol 3 (Can't Resist #3)(16)

“Okay,” shrugged Skylar. “We’ll bring you guys back some dessert later.”

“Have fun.” Abby went into the living room and plopped onto the couch beside Brian.

He gave her a look. “I’m fine. You didn’t have to cut short your date with my brother,” he made a bit-into-a-pickle face, “just to come babysit me.”

“I know.” She grabbed the remote and began flipping through the channels. Dealing with Brian was a little like dealing with a wild animal at times. You had to let him come to you.

“It’s not a big deal anymore,” he maintained mulishly, stealing back the remote from her and flipping over to ESPN.

“Of course it isn’t,” replied Abby quietly as they sat in silence and did what they always did every March 17th. While most folks their age were out drinking green beer and partying the night away, she and Brian actively did nothing.

Together.

Ironically, they had a similar celebration on Cinco De Mayo as well.

Only that one was for her.

It was actually how this whole tradition was born, in fact. For that one day each year, Abby allowed herself to grieve…for her failings and her losses, for the tears she’d forced herself to stop shedding. For that one day each year, she took a day of mourning even though no one else in the world was mourning with her. For that one day each year, she reminded herself that just as it had the year prior, the next day would come.

Where once this was a solo tradition she’d never told anyone about, after a few years, Brian caught on. He never pried, he never prodded. He’d simply taken it upon himself to make it a non-solo tradition. He just plain began showing up to actively do nothing with her.

Apparently butting in without asking was also a tradition for them.

On her part, she was glad to have him share her May 5ths with her. Even though Brian had no idea what it was she was actively ‘not celebrating,’ every year, without fail, he’d show up for their annual tradition of not celebrating together.

As only her best friend could.

“I really am fine, you know.” He nudged her shoulder with his. “But thanks for coming. I didn’t think you’d remember this year.”

“Why would you think that?” she frowned.

They watched TV in silence for another minute before he eventually answered softly, “I feel like you’re slipping away from me, Abby.”

The words were a knife wound in her chest. And the only way she could chase it away was by turning to give him her best, ‘you’re crazy’ look and reassuring him with every confidence in the world, “Well, I’m not. I’m right here. Nothing has changed between us.”

It wasn’t until after she’d finished saying it that she realized she’d just said her second fib of the night.

And it was a big one.





CHAPTER SIX


SHE COULDN’T BELIEVE she was doing this.

She felt like she was going to hurl.

“Relax, Abby. You have nothing to be nervous about.”

Easy for him to say. “Are you sure this dress is formal enough?” She checked her reflection in the mirrored walls of the elevator once again while Connor pushed the button for the top floor. Though she’d searched high and low, her favorite thrift store did not have a section for ‘corporate mixer cocktail dresses.’ So, she’d gotten the dressiest thing she could find that didn’t look like it belonged at a music award banquet.

“I should have gotten fancier heels.”

He came up behind her, his rock solid frame nearly molding against her as he leaned in to whisper, “For the hundredth time, you look beautiful.” He met her eyes in the mirror and raked his heated gaze slowly over every curve of her body. “But, if you need me to convince you in other ways…” Splaying his hands on her hips, he pulled her back against him. Close, but not nearly close enough. “Does that tell you how gorgeous I think you are?” His voice was hoarse, tortured, and the brush of hard evidence outlining his ‘thoughts’ were tempting her to reach over and pull the stop key to bring the elevator to a halt.

And it had nothing to do with the fact that she was afraid of getting out on the top floor.

When he caught her eyes flickering over to that red button on the electronic panel, he groaned.

“You’re killing me here, Abby. At this rate, I’m going to stop this elevator right now, if not for every last reason you have in mind, at least to avoid walking out of here with the granddaddy of all erections in front of everyone I work with.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him to do it.

Until the elevator chimed and the doors slid open on the ballroom floor.

Saved by the bell.

He backed up a step and shoved a hand in his pocket uncomfortably. “You’re hell on all my good intentions, woman.” Drilling her with one more sizzling hot look, he slid a hand on the small of her back and led her out of the elevator. “And if you don’t stop biting your lip, I’m going to pull you in the nearest bathroom and pretend we’re back in that elevator. Twice.” His hand slipped an inch lower, daring her to rise an inch higher and prove that a bad boy with good intentions…

Was still a bad boy.

She swiped her tongue over the teeth marks on her lower lip in response to her own thoughts.